And the World Fell Away
by CrissColferL0ve
Summary: CrissColfer one shot: Chris finally returns Darren's feelings.


**I own nothing obviously, Chris and Darren are their own people. This is different to what I usually write, I posted it on , so I figured I'd post here, too. Any reviews would be fabulous!**

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><p>Tangled limbs, twisted sheets, bare skin against bare skin, a faint memory of drunken words and chaste kisses. His head was spinning, his eyes closed, too afraid to open them, too afraid not to open them. He had to know, he needed to know, but he was too afraid to know. He didn't want to know.<p>

Eventually, he pulled his eyes opened, his eyelids sticking, a deafening pounding in his ears. It could easily have been his heart. He saw him, then, his pale skin against the even paler sheets, his pink parted lips, his lashes laying faintly against the hollows beneath his eyes. Beneath those milky lids was a set of eyes like exploding stars, eyes he could have easily spent all of eternity staring into, eyes he could so easily lose himself in.

Inside his chest, his heart was doing acrobatics. It was real. It had happened. _Finally_. He couldn't remember much. He wanted to. He would force himself to, eventually, but for now he was just stunned and ecstatic and scared all at once. The sounds of soft breaths, small moans escaping lips, not preconceived, but natural, on instinct, filling the air and his ears and the entire room.

He had never looked more beautiful. He could easily have watched him there, forever and never have been bored for a single moment. His sand-brown hair, sticking up in small tufts, his eyelids twitching; a sign of dancing dreams inside his mind. He wondered if he ever dreamt of him, for he himself had dreamt of him, often. He had occupied his dreams for a long time. He alone was a dream.

Perhaps this, too, was a dream. He hoped not. He prayed and wished and promised the moon, just to have this moment not be a dream. He tried to think. It made his head hurt, throbbing pangs clamouring away inside his mind. He needed to think. He _would_ think, had to think.

There had been stars and not just his eyes, for his eyes were like stars and he himself had been starry eyed in his presence, as he so often was. But, no, there had been real stars. Star gazing. They had watched the stars intently. Together. He remembered the light touch of fingertips, the tingling sensation travelling up and down his arm the second he had come in contact with him. He remembered the smile, the smile that was for him and him alone. He never thought he would ever smile at him like that. He had wished, he had prayed, he had dreamt, but never had he ever expected it to become reality.

What had come after the smile? He couldn't remember, but he had to. He would never forgive himself if he forgot. Soft, warm breaths, against his skin, against his mouth, inside his mouth. Their lips had conjoined, their shadows entwining, the rest of the world slipping away, falling down the cliff and over the rocks and into the fast running stream, gone forever. It was just them. That was how he wanted it to be, for all time, always.

Then came the whispered promises, the confessions and the things they never would have been brave enough to say, had they not been intoxicated with alcohol. He would have said them someday. At least, that was what he told himself. He had contemplated it so many times, almost gone through with it more than once, but wavered at the final moment, pulled himself back, grounding himself, too afraid of rejection, too afraid of humiliation, just too afraid.

But they had confessed beneath the pale moon, shadows cast along their skin, the silver stars flickering in the night sky, the cool breeze leaving goose bumps all along their arms. The only witnesses, save themselves, were the crickets, chirping melodically, high above in the trees, in the long reeds, in the green, green grass. They chirped away, revealing the secrets of all the others who had been there before them. No one could understand, anyway, they spoke their own language.

The blue-green orbs had silver tints, reflections from the stars above. He'd spoken first, his voice uneven. _I love you._ He could hardly believe it, he'd shaken his head, pinched himself, but no, he was really there and he was really staring at him like that, with that spellbinding smile and those cyan eyes, glazed and glistening, with terror and dread and affection and anticipation. He mimicked his smile with his own lips, his mind racing, as well as his heart. He was still sceptical as to whether or not he had heard him correctly, too afraid to ask, too afraid to speak, too afraid to move. When he had said it again, _I love you_, his smile grew wider, his heart beat speeding up, his pulse racing wildly. He had heard him correctly and now he had said it twice. The first time had not been a mistake. So, he'd said it back, like he really meant it and he did, he simply needed him to know that he meant it, how much he meant it, how long he had longed to say it.

From the moment he had met him, everything changed, he had never been the same again. Thoughts of him had flooded his mind, kept him awake at night, his head pounding, his heart hurting, his mind running away. He didn't feel the same, he was aware of this. Friendship was all he wanted, all he needed, but he himself needed so much more, wanted more, craved more. In his presence, he feigned ignorance, played dumb, acted as if it was nothing more, but in reality, it was everything and so much more, perhaps more than he was willing to admit, even to himself.

A rush of adrenaline had ran through his veins and he used it to pluck up the courage to move closer, to close the space between them, to conjoin their shadows once more. It felt right, having his lips on his, despite the sloppiness and the lazy movements. It was where his lips belonged, he'd know that before, this had simply verified it. All previous kisses had been meaningless, at least on his part, for he, himself, had savoured every touch of his lips, his skin, every time he cast his eyes towards him. No one had eyes like he did.

Once at home, they'd fallen fast, as had the layers covering their skin, their hands tugging hard and pushing material out of the way, their mouths hungry, needing more, wanting to swallow one another whole. Their bodies fell together in a steady rhythm, their hearts beating in time, their movements in perfect synchronisation, the sounds escaping their throats raspy and pleading. They came down from the high at around the same time, clinging to one another for dear life. He'd been too afraid to let go, too afraid that if he did, he might very well break into a million miniscule pieces, never having a chance of being put back together again. He had come entirely undone at the seams, his whole body, his mind screaming, shouting, crying out, not knowing what he was feeling, thinking. It was all too surreal. His mouth was on his, their bodies pressed together, their heart beats in sync. It was like a dream come true and it shouldn't have been, but it was and he could accept that. He had accepted it all a long time ago. This was what he yearned for, _he_ was what he yearned for.

And now he might possibly have him, provided he attained the same feelings he had expressed the night before. This was what frightened him the most. He couldn't bear it if he took it all back, dismissed it as a silly mistake, an act of spontaneity during a drunken stupor. The thought tore at his heart strings, pulling them so tight, it became hard to breathe.

His eyes met his now. They had opened, somehow, without him having noticed. He waited for it to happen, waited for the panic-stricken look, but it didn't come. Instead, he was awarded with a pretty smile, his pink lips turning upwards, his eyes shining. _Hi_. He returned the smile, replied with the same word, not knowing what to expect. Was this some sort of mind trick?

It was impossible. How was it possible that he loved him back? He'd diagnosed the obliviousness a while back, almost positive that he was unaware of the feelings he possessed. Sometimes, it felt like a blessing, other times, it felt like a huge weight on his shoulders. He wished that he could just say it and know where he stood.

Now, though, it was all different. Everything had changed. He had said he loved him, he'd kissed his lips and touched his body and taken him all the way to a place he had never been, at least not in the way they had gone. Unfamiliar territory. Everything had changed and it seemed to be for the better. He hoped he had the same opinion.

The silence was unbearable, but he couldn't speak, words escaping him, too afraid that if he opened his mouth something ridiculous would pop out. He waited, they both did and when no one spoke, he simply moved across and captured his lips with his own, their bodies finding comfort in one another's touch. It felt familiar now, despite it having only happened once before. He told himself it was familiar because it was _right_, meant to be, but he wondered if the hopeless romantic inside him had merely taken over.

They broke away, reluctantly, but necessary, for breathing purposes. They stared into one another's eyes, warm chocolate and ice cold, different, but somehow, perfect. A thousand and one heart beats went by, as they studied all of the lines and plains of one another's faces, memorising every blemish, every teeny, tiny detail, _everything_. Finally, he spoke to him. It was just one simple word, but it told him everything he needed to know. He had replied by catching his mouth with his own again, knowing that it was going to be okay, that everything was real and was going to work out. He'd spoken the word with such vigour, such want, such bare enthusiasm and fervent meaning. That one word, meaning more to him than any other, a word he'd heard a million times before, suddenly different, a completely different meaning, a different ballgame entirely. All of this, in that one tiny, two-syllable word:

_Darren_.

And that was it, he was lost and he didn't ever want to be found. In losing himself, he'd found himself and in finding himself, he'd found someone else. He'd caught his lips for the umpteenth time, the world slipping fast, this was all he needed. He breathed out, once more before the entire world disappeared, his lips forming a silent word, the only thing that made sense any more:

_Chris._

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><p><em><em>**Let me know what you think? Thanks for reading :) x**


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